Wednesday, March 9

Bad dates- part 2- The Gangster

My friend Rach has a theory that there is nothing that cannot be cured by a B.M.W (are we all clear what that stands for? Its not a car...) and a night of booty shaking at rehab/media (depends which city I'm in). Personally, I don't think this is the case, but one night I was bit down so Rach packed me off to Rehab. I should point out here that many a scary man has been pulled in Rehab before, by all of us. Rehab is the local dancehall/hip hop club, and it's ok, quite posh really, but Rach fancies the DJ so we have to go quite a lot. So on this particular night I decide to drive, so I park my car down some dodgy back alley, as usual, and head on up with Rach. Actually, one good thing bout Rehab is that most guys in there are wicked dancers. So we're dancing away, and this one guy gives me a look. It's so dark in there, so I can't see him, but I think he's nice (this always gets me in trouble!) so I smile.Later on, we leave, and as we go this car pulls and I see Rach perk up as the guys inside offer opportunities for B.M.W related fun. So the guy driving was the one checking me out and he asks my number, and he's cute so I give it him, and Rach gives his friends (yes friends plural, not a typo) her number. The conversation here is interesting. He tells me his name 'Darnell' he says, and I'm like 'Oh Donnell, as in Donnell Jones? I love that song he does...' and he's like 'DARNELL thicko!'. And I get the message. This is some weeks after I was traumatised by Little Man, so I figured one little date wouldn't hurt (I had not learnt my lesson at all...) So we organise a double date with Rach and one of his mates. However he turns up, sans his mate and insists on coming up to my flat. I was a little wary of how he dressed. He was blinged up to the max, even gold teeth. So he comes into my kitchen and the following conversation ensues:Gangster- So this is a nice place you got.V- Yeah, but rent is a lot.G- So how much is that telly worth then?V-Well that belongs to L....G- Oh wicked right. So like, you go to Rehab much?V- Yeah, Rach loves it.G- Yeah I seen ya around.V- Oh dear, so did you find your way here okay?G- Yeah it's not far.V- Where is it you live?G- Roundhay.(Roundhay is a proper ghetto. Where I live is pretty rough, but Roundhay is nasty...)V- Roundhay? Past Meanwood?G- Yeah, you know it?V- No. So you live with your family?G- Yeah my mum and my brothers and sisters.V- Sweet, how many have you got?G- Oh I dunno really, around 15, know what I mean?V- Not really. Later on we go into my room and I discover the following information: he has 'Thug life' tattooed 2pac style across his stomach, along with other assorted tattoos. He does 'Oh, you know' for a living' and the conversation then goes onto how much he loves weed.So I manage to get him to piss off, finally. I don't have plans to become his ho, or anyone's ho for that matter. Rach practically fell out of her door when I came back. 'Did you shag him?' she asks. 'No', I reply, 'He's a fucking gangster Rach, he has gold teeth for christs sake!'. 'Not even a snog?'. She is angry at me for wasting perfectly good B.M.W. And yeah, he was fit, but he accessorised better than me, and came from Roundhay-gangster capital!He kept ringing me and texting me, saying he wanted to 'Show me his skills' (which means only one thing in UK) and Rach ended up having ALL his friends. However, I cannot date a self-proclaimed pimp who wants a piece, with the option of sharing me with his friends.And thus ends the tale of The Gangster!